It Pours
by freelance beatnik
Summary: After a year of marriage, Éowyn has learned that Faramir’s moods change as swiftly as the approaching storm clouds. On one particularly foul night, she must help him chase away his selfdoubt. One shot of angst and romantic loveness. Please R&R, REVISED.


It Pours

By freelance beatnik

**Disclaimer:** If I actually owned this I wouldn't need to write fanfiction, now would I?

**Summary:** After a year of marriage, Éowyn has learned that Faramir's moods change as swiftly as the approaching storm clouds. On one particularly foul night, she must help him chase away his self-doubt. One shot of angst and romantic love-ness. Please R&R, it's much appreciated.

**Author's Note:** I am still suffering writer's block in the midst of my other story Disillusion, and I have taken up writing one shots to help it get better. My Théoden/Elfhild piece was a great help, but I still need something more. Enjoy the Faramir/Éowyn love!

The thunder rumbled in the distance and it seemed as though the very earth shook in response to the heavens' call. Listening carefully as she moved through the house, it seemed to Éowyn that the passing storm was pouring rain down by the bucket load. It was growing late and she could see the lightning flashes across the darkened sky as she entered the bedchamber. There was a shadow by the window, and she sighed to herself silently as recognized the familiar form of Faramir, as gazed upon the troubled sky.

She could not be certain if he had heard her enter. As one of the skilled Rangers of Ithilien one would think he would, however, her husband more frequently dwelt in a dominion of musings within his own mind, and there were an increasing number of things which he failed to notice when he sank into his somber moods. Crossing the room, she sidled up behind him, and wrapped her arms about his waist, feeling him relax at her familiar touch. He raised an arm to wrap it comfortably about her shoulders, and she smiled briefly in contentment as he held her close.

"The storm should pass soon, I should think. You need not worry," he said softly, still staring out into the stormy sky.

"It is not the stormy skies that worry me, husband, but rather your dour musings," she said gently, tilting her head up to look at him, trying to catch his gaze. After a few moments more of scanning the turbulent skies, he met her concerned look.

"I only dwell on silly thoughts, my love, as you know I am wont to do. I do not want your heart to be troubled," he said, smiling at her. She knew this tactic though; he had used it before to avoid the unwanted conversation about his problems. She would not be so easily dissuaded this time.

"I am always troubled when you tell me you are well when you are not; when the smile on your lips does not show in your eyes," she said, pulling away from him and clutching his hand to her breast. "Faramir, I love you. My heart beats only for you, and I cannot bear this to continue! What will become of us if we cannot be honest with one another?"

He closed his eyes as he turned his head away from her gaze, and she new that her words had made his heart ache. She had no desire to pain him further, but she knew that if they did not speak of the ghosts that haunted both their pasts, they would never be truly happy. Moving the hand which she still held to her lips for a brief kiss, she tugged him gently toward the bed, sitting upon its edge and guiding him beside her.

"It is just that…" he began after many moments, but faltered in a loss for the proper words. "I have always felt that I am not good enough for you. I would have had you marry the king you loved, not his lowly steward."

"Look at me, my husband," she told him firmly, and did not continue until he stopped staring at the floor. "I never loved Aragorn; I was consumed by the idea of being loved by him. All I ever truly desired was for a good and noble man to carry me away from my troubles, and in whom I could find love. It was you I was searching for all along, only I knew it not!"

She felt her soul lighten as she spoke to him with such truthful ardor. Surely, Faramir knew all of this already, but he had never accepted it. There had always been a shadow in his mind that perhaps she did not love him as she claimed. Now, she needed him to believe her that Aragorn had been no more than a beacon of hope in a very dark world. She had sought an end to the torment and slinking evils of her uncle's hall, and she had found that in the would-be king. She had also found understanding and sympathy in him, but he had ultimately rejected her.

"And yet it was our King who freed you from the Black Shadow that consumed us both," he murmured bitterly. She knew he still felt strange sort of guilt that he could not overcome that illness by himself. He had told her frequently that if he had been able, than perhaps Minas Tirith would have been spared from many evils.

"He freed us, but I was still as the sleeping dead in my despair. When I rode out to fight on the Pelennor, I had hoped that death would find me quickly. I longed for death in the Houses of Healing, yet it would not have me. It was you and your love that revived me; that made me whole again," she said, squeezing his hand desperately. "You did what you could, Faramir; do not punish yourself for what might have been."

"I have spent so much of my life being faced with how insufficient I am, that I have a difficult time envisioning myself as the man you believe me to be," he said sadly, looking into her eyes again. "When I saw you that day in the gardens…I knew that you had suffered as I had. It tore at my heart that someone so lovely should be faced with the same troubles that I was born to face. I live day after day dreading your disappointment when you find I am not the man you imagined me to be."

"Faramir, my love," she said, reaching out to press the palm of her hand to the side of his face, "I love you more than the very air I breathe, and all I want is to see your mind be at peace as well. You are my husband, the man I love, and you are the very hope that has kept me going. Doubt yourself no longer, husband. You have no reason to now, nor have you ever."

"My Éowyn, my lovely White Lady," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the inside of her palm. "You always know how to put my mind at rest. I do love you, Éowyn. Do you know this?"

"I do, my love," she replied, and she moved to sit closer to him on the edge of the bed. She paused for a moment, listening and hearing nothing but the nighttime quiet and the crackling of the fire. "The storm has passed by, finally."

"It has taken the cloudy troubles with it, as well," he said, and as he leaned in to kiss her, she knew that his distressed mind was at ease at last.

**This** is the revamped version. I wrote the other at like one in the morning so there were issues and holes in it. I think I fixed most of them and made some of the dialogue less…dumb. Anyway, hopefully you liked it, even though I think this particular marital issue has been done to death. Feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading!


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